


The Reindeer's Nose

by Celestialmari



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Holidays, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28142856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestialmari/pseuds/Celestialmari
Summary: Futaba Sakura gives Akira Kurusu the worst sweater Goro Akechi has ever seen. Somehow he’s still attracted to Akira even in the awful sweater. Akira is oblivious to how ugly the sweater is... Or, maybe he likes how it makes Akechi squirm.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79
Collections: 21 plus akeshuake server yuletide 2020 event





	The Reindeer's Nose

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE thank you to @Lia404 for beta-ing this fic for me! You were such a huge help <3

Ever since Futaba Sakura found the courage to embrace the world once more, the holiday season had become her favorite time of year. It was something about the romantic atmosphere and time with loved ones that brought everything into perspective. It had only been a few years since she felt comfortable outside of her room again. She was determined to make up for the time she had lost by cramming every possible bit of holiday cheer into the month of December. Unfortunately, for Goro Akechi, whose many winters spent alone had soured any desire to be cheerful simply because the world demanded it, this meant that the holidays would be crammed down his throat whether he wanted them to be or not. 

Nothing exemplified Goro’s dread more than the sight of his boyfriend, Akira Kurusu, walking down the staircase leading up to LeBlanc’s attic in the most horrifically overwhelming piece of knit cloth any human had ever laid their eyes on. The sweater, if it was even worthy of such a title, was a bright lime green and yellow plaid with silver tinsel fringe, little golden bells around the collar, and a large cartoon of a reindeer with a red nose that, of course, lit up. What made the whole situation even more ridiculous was that somehow, even with the jingling that followed his every motion, Akira was pulling it off.

“Akechi!” Futaba yelled excitedly, sprinting down the stairs and past Akira, practically knocking him over. “You’re here!” She pointed to Akira who was now readjusting the awful sweater, the bells jingling in protest. “Doesn’t he look _fantastic_?” 

Aware of the eyes on him, Akira took a second to fix his glasses before looking up at Futaba and Goro. It had been a couple of days since they had all last seen each other. Recreational time was hard to come by with how busy the winter season could get. College exams, part-time jobs and tons of holiday preparations made it frustrating and difficult to do anything else. At this point, even Akira’s ugly sweater couldn’t ruin Goro’s giddiness at seeing his boyfriend for the first time in a while.

“Good afternoon, Akechi,” Akira said quietly, fixing his hair before sauntering over to where the others stood. The blinking light of the reindeer’s nose on his sweater shone brightly in between the trio, bathing them in red.

“Hello,” Goro replied through gritted teeth, eyes staring directly at the reindeer’s scarlet light. “Could you turn that damn light off, Kurusu?”

“No!” Futaba yelled in protest, holding her hand up in front of the sweater as if to block Goro’s malicious intentions. “Leave Rudolph alone.”

Although Futaba had trapped Akira in an abomination of a garment, she had picked out a much nicer festive outfit for herself. It was a long-sleeved santa dress with green and white striped stockings and matching santa booties. She also wore a pair of reindeer antlers atop her long orange hair. The outfit was a little cliche overall, but it fit her and the season well enough. 

“I’ll turn it back on later, Futaba” Akira reassured her, pressing a tinsel-hidden button on his sleeve. The crimson light of the reindeer’s nose quickly fizzled out, leaving just the warm but dim lights of the run-down cafe. 

Behind Goro, images of snow falling throughout Tokyo flickered across the small television screen near the coffee bar. The sound was off, but the newscaster seemed to be joyfully chatting about the holiday weather. 

“What a bunch of pointless nonsense,” Goro mumbled through gritted teeth. His complaints either went unheard or were ignored.

“Oh, it’s snowing!” Futaba cheered, jumping into the booth nearest the window and practically climbing onto the windowsill itself. She pressed her face up against the glass, watching in awe as the flakes peacefully floated down from the sky. 

Just then, the door to Cafe LeBlanc swung open. The bell atop of the door chimed softly in the otherwise quiet restaurant. For a brief moment, Goro thought the sound had come from the bells on Akira’s sweater, and silently chastised himself for making such a ridiculous mistake. 

A gust of freezing cool air came from the open door, followed by a tall middle-aged man with a snow-covered hat and a shopping bag, plus a black cat with tiny snowballs stuck to his fur.

“Come on, guys,” the cat complained, jumping onto a nearby stool and starting to lick the snow out of his ebony fur. “Why’d you leave me with Sojiro? He can’t understand me and he wouldn’t pick me up. Look at the state of my fur!”

“My god, that cat never stops meowing,” Sojiro Sakura stated. He placed his shopping bag down on the counter followed by his coat and hat on the coat rack by the cafe’s entrance. “He wouldn’t shut up the entire walk home from the grocery store.”

“Sojiro!” Futaba exclaimed, moving to give him a hug but pivoting to the cat at the last second. “Morgana! You’re finally home!” The cat, Morgana, yowled in protest, little clumps of snow dropping to the floor as Futaba twirled excitedly, clutching him close to her chest. “Now it’s time to eat!”

Sojiro groaned audibly, shuffling behind the cafe counter and into the kitchen. “We have to finish cooking first, Futaba,” he responded. The banging sounds of pots and pans being rummaged through echoed loudly throughout the small room.

“Right,” Futaba said, her holiday cheer valiantly resisting news as bad as having to wait for food. “Do you need any help with anything?”

The voices of Futaba and Sojiro seemed to fall into the background as they stepped further into the kitchen, leaving the two boys alone. Akira sat down in the booth closest to the staircase, the bells on his collar loudly signaling the change in position. While the sweater itself was repugnant, Goro convinced himself that the noisy collar wasn’t so bad. His eyes darkened, picturing what the pretty boy would look like wearing nothing but the brash object itself.

“This is quite festive.” Goro stated with hooded eyes. He sat down in the booth across from Akira, his gloved hand reaching over to touch one of the bells. Gently rolling it between his pointer finger and thumb, Goro was determined to keep his gaze on the small object instead of the inharmonious jumble of material right below. 

“Do you like it?” Akira smirked. The sultry face looked utterly absurd paired with the garish color of the fabric. “You can’t seem to stop staring after all.”

“No, I don’t like it,” Goro growled, quickly snatching his hand away. “In fact, it rather hurts to look at.” 

Akira laughed, the bells laughing along with him. The cafe was starting to fill with the scent of curry, coffee, and holiday sweets.

“Well,” he started, picking absentmindedly at the tinsel. “As long as Futaba’s happy, I think it’s great.” His voice was impish, amused at the effect his sweater was clearly having on his boyfriend.

“You look like a rotting lime,” Goro retorted, glancing instead at Sojiro and Futaba in the kitchen. Dinner would probably be ready soon. Truth be told, the hue of the sweater wouldn’t work on absolutely anybody, but it somehow looked good on Akira. It was almost like putting the beautiful Akira next to such a horrific hodgepodge of color and texture was only making him more attractive by comparison.

Goro placed his hands on the table, trying to look at his fingers instead of the trainwreck that was Akira’s ensemble. He focused on the feeling of his gloves against his skin, attempting to regain his composure.

“I mean,” Akira mused, a mischievous spark in his eyes. “I just don’t see anything wrong with this sweater. It’s comfy. It’s festive. What could possibly be the issue?” He pulled on the collar suggestively, a subtle challenge.

“How about the fact that it jingles every time you move?” Goro retorted, meeting Akira’s flirtatious eyes. “I can hear you a mile away.”

“Oh?” Akira responded, dramatically leaning over the table, shaking slightly so that the bells would chime. “You mean like this?” The hem of the sweater rode up slightly as he did this, revealing the tops of his beautifully toned hips. It was on purpose.

“Yes, Kurusu,” Goro grabbed the sweater collar, pulling Akira close and shaking the garment playfully. A cacophony of sounds came from the sweater, filling the restaurant and briefly catching the attention of Morgana who had been taking a nap on the stool nearby. The cat looked up for a moment before swiftly going back to sleep as if all of this was a daily occurance. “Exactly like that.”

Akira grinned, taking the opportunity to plant a kiss on his boyfriend’s mouth. Goro’s eyes went wide as he immediately pulled away from the kiss, letting go of the sweater and leaning back to compose himself.

“Are you crazy?” Goro exclaimed in a hushed voice, looking around the cafe to make sure no one noticed. 

“Don’t worry, Detective” Akira reassured him, “No one’s watching.”

Throughout the past couple of years, Goro had been working on letting go of the mask that protected him for so long. Trusting Akira and the others was no longer the issue it used to be, but he still wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about public displays of affection. Thankfully, his boyfriend was just as clever and careful as he was. Goro knew Akira would never put him in an uncomfortable situation. He was reckless, but he wasn’t stupid.

Akira sat back in his booth and smiled gently. He rested his head against his hand and looked up at the boy he had fallen in love with so many years ago. Even after all this time, it was so easy to get a rise out of him. Admittedly, messing with Goro Akechi had become Akira’s favorite pastime. 

“Dinner’s ready!” Futaba’s voice chimed in from the kitchen. She stepped out from behind the coffee counter with a giant pot of Japanese curry. Sojiro followed soon behind with a plethora of other festive side dishes and add-ons. 

The two of them began to set the table, with the two other boys, and even Morgana, rushing over to help. It wasn’t long before the group of five were all seated at the table, digging into their holiday meals. Overhead, the dim lights of Cafe Leblanc, plus the scent of hot, delicious food, kept the scene warm amongst the cold winter snow falling right outside.

Tonight, even with everything going as swimmingly as it had, Goro started to feel a familiar sense of panic. Life, as it was now, was better than he ever could have imagined. Still, he couldn’t help but flash back to watching his neighbors’ holiday lights blink and fizzle out outside the window of his lonely, broken-down childhood apartment, his mother nowhere to be found. He remembered his stomach rumbling as he wondered when his next meal would come, when he would no longer be alone. The burning hatred that still existed in him today, was only an ember back then. With that one, fleeting thought, memories of being forgotten, abandoned, unwanted came rushing to the surface at such an alarming speed, that his mask hastily fell right back into place.

“What a wonderful evening.” Goro said automatically, his perfect smile firmly set to hide his inner turmoil. “Thank you very much for having me.”

“Of course.” Futaba replied in between bites of curry. Her face was a mess but she was thoroughly and energetically happy. Goro envied her.

As it happened, Goro’s mask had one major weakness, and that weakness was sitting across from him at the table. Compassionate as always, Akira put down his chopsticks. He paused to look Goro in the eyes and silently ask if he was alright.

It was a rainy afternoon, only a spattering of months after Akira saw Goro at the train station the day he was meant to leave Tokyo, when the two finally broke down. They yelled and screamed at each other, airing grievances that had been there since long before they even met, Their eyes were wet with decades of unreleased tears as their anguish and rage suddenly turned into passion. Goro’s hate-filled touches turned into gentle caresses, finding comfort in the boy who had somehow unlocked every part of him. In turn, Akira accepted him, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping him afloat. 

When morning came, and Goro’s mask repaired itself and slid back into place, Akira pulled him back into bed. With Goro’s walls having come crumbling down in front of him, Akira could visibly see the change in his features, his posture, and even his choice of words whenever they came back up. Unlike the rest of the world, he could see the difference between Goro Akechi, the boy he loved, and the Detective Prince.

However, when Goro looked back at Akira, sitting across from him at the dinner table, his meaningful eyes full with sincere concern, the sweater ruined it. From deep within Goro came a startled half-laugh, half-choking sound. It was just awkward enough to pass as a cough or a clearing of the throat, but loud enough that it was certainly heard. Akira relaxed his shoulders and picked up his previously forgotten chopsticks. 

“That really is the most ridiculous sweater I’ve ever seen,” Goro blurted out.

Akira grinned, knowing that Goro’s moment of weakness had passed. Under the table, he stretched out his leg so that his foot would touch the other boy’s in a game of footsie. Goro dutifully ignored him, but was secretly grateful for the affectionate gesture.

“Yeah, where did you even find something that terrible?” Sojiro huffed.

“No!” Futaba cried. “Sojiro! Not you too.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest in annoyance. “None of you have any taste at all.”

Goro silently worried that his taste might somehow be too similar to Futaba’s considering the only thing keeping him out of his holiday downward spiral was how intriguing Akira looked in the hideous sweater. His mind kept flip-flopping between pessimism, anxiety, and unexpected horniness in a way he was convinced must be unhealthy.

Akira didn’t let up, consistently leaning over the table and jingling the bells on his collar, or stretching in ways that caused the edge of the sweater to ride up just enough to show off a bit of midriff. The more Goro paid attention the more he realized that the tinsel made odd scratchy sounds against the table. He wondered what sound it would make on skin. Akira innocently finished his curry, knowing full well exactly what he was doing. 

Eventually, the night came to a close. Sojiro and Futaba retired to the Sakura house for the night, taking Morgana, who claimed the attic would be too cold for him, with them.  
After the dishes were all cleaned and put away, the two boys stood by the door to Cafe LeBlanc, reluctant to say goodbye just yet. Outside, the snow fell faster and rougher than before, covering all of the nearby buildings and streets with pure white. Goro leaned against the cafe door. He was fully aware that it was probably time to leave before the storm got worse.

“You don’t have to go home tonight,” Akira whispered. He placed his hand over Goro’s shoulder and against the door. The pose would usually be quite sexy, but with the silver tinsel and lime green fabric, it became an odd mix of seductive and embarrassing.

“Are you asking me to stay, Kurusu?” Goro replied, trying not to chuckle at the reindeer staring right at him from Akira’s sweater. 

From the second Akira had walked down the attic stairs in the atrocious sweater, a part of Goro had already planned to stay. Snide remarks and insults about the garment aside, he wasn’t fooling anyone, especially not himself. In truth, the decision had already been made way before the question was even posed.

“Yes,” Akira replied, leaning closer so that his lips tickled his boyfriend’s ear. His voice sounded playful and a little desperate. “Please stay the night.”

Goro didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for the sleeve of the arm that was pinning him against the door. His fingers felt around the tinsel for the button to turn on the reindeer’s nose. Finding it rather quickly, he clicked it on. The two watched as the red bulb flickered on, bathing the darkened room in red.

“You have Rudolph to keep you company,” Goro chuckled, dropping his hand back down to his side. “You don’t need me.” He wanted nothing more than to reach under the sweater and touch the skin underneath, but just like his boyfriend liked messing with him, he liked messing with his boyfriend.

“I’d rather have you than Rudolph,” Akira smirked, taking both of Goro’s hands in his and intertwining their fingers. Goro’s gloved hands were warm against Akira’s bare ones. 

“Well, Kurusu,” Goro began, moving their hands behind him so that Akira’s arms were around his waist. “You can only have one of us. The other one has to go.”

The two boys stood there for a moment, happy to be holding each other. Both of them were still amazed that they could. So many things had happened between them, series of events that never should have led them here but somehow still did. Neither of them believed in fate, but their relationship simultaneously proved its existence and the ability to refute it.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Akira whispered, the cold air from the outside seeping in through the cracks in the door. “It’s getting colder.” 

He slipped his hands under Goro’s coat. With a gentle push, he slipped it off of his shoulders, before hanging it on the nearby coat rack. Akira’s movements were excited and giddy as he removed Goro’s scarf and placed it with the coat. Finally, taking Goro’s hands one by one, Akira removed Goro’s black gloves. Smiling as he did it, Goro took the gloves back and added them to the coat rack. 

Wordlessly, the two boys headed up the stairs to the attic of Cafe LeBlanc, making sure to shut off the lights on the way up. By the time they arrived in the tiny, somewhat dusty room that Akira called home, the only illumination was from the moon reflecting off the snow outside and the frustratingly bright red light of the reindeer’s nose on the terrible holiday sweater. 

“Come here,” Akira mumbled quietly as he sat down on the bed, motioning for Goro to join him.

Goro complied, taking a seat next to the pest who had somehow managed to become the love of his life. Without realizing it, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, he lifted a hand to brush the hair away from Akira’s eyes before taking off his thick-rimmed glasses. Every time he saw them, Goro was awestruck by Akira’s eyes. They were fierce and passionate, the only clues to the fiery rage which lived underneath his calm and unnoticable exterior.

This rage was one of the many things that drew Goro to him. It was almost as though they both had grown up wearing masks to cover up who they truly were. Yet, Akira didn’t seem ashamed of his mask. It wasn't different from him. Just another version of him. The two versions weren’t separate like Goro’s were. They were two halves of a whole, and both entirely Akira.

Akira suddenly reached for him, wrapping his arms around Goro’s waist and pulling him in for a kiss. Goro’s train of thought derailed as their lips crashed against each others’. Their kisses were hungry, sending chills down both of their spine, ecstatic to finally be alone together. Goro knew immediately that he had made the right decision in staying. 

For a moment, the sweater was forgotten as warmth filled the air. At some point, their eyes had naturally fallen closed, hands slipping underneath fabric to touch bare skin. The world around them fell away as they wrapped themselves around each other. Akira’s hands moved underneath Goro’s shirt and pulled him even closer as their bodies pressed together. Their lips wandered, kissing jaws, necks, shoulders, sighing happily only to abruptly be interrupted by jingling bells and the itchy drag of tinsel. 

“Akira,” Goro growled through gritted teeth. Akira stopped, genuinely surprised by the use of his first name. “I fucking _despise_ this sweater.” He grabbed the front of the sweater, watching Rudolph’s knit eyes fill with the illusion of terror. The bells chimed bitterly at the motion.

“Why don’t you take it off of me then?” Akira’s eyes sparkled mischievously, ever noticeable among the shadow and crimson light. He leaned forward, pressing his body against Goro’s, the red light muffled by the material of his clothes.

Goro didn’t hesitate. All of the hatred he felt towards the stupid sweater, all of the frustration that had built up throughout the evening exploded as he ripped the sweater off of Akira’s torso. Goro refused to show mercy. The fabric tore, the life inside of the reindeer’s nose flickering out for good. The bells jingled in protest as they were furiously tossed to the side. Fully in tatters, the sweater landed on the floor. The bells let out one last cacophonous chime as they hit the floorboards with a loud thud. Goro’s eyes showed no remorse. 

Akira laughed, the sound filling the space left empty by the lifeless bells. With the sweater long gone, Goro turned back to his boyfriend, whose ferocious eyes matched his, before tackling him down onto the bed, resuming their passionate holiday kiss.

Outside, the snow kept falling, but the inside of Cafe LeBlanc was warm and filled with affection, devotion, and a very intentional lack of ugly holiday sweaters.


End file.
